


Coffee Shop Thing

by KiraKiralina



Category: Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraKiralina/pseuds/KiraKiralina
Summary: Coffee shop au that involves a slow burn and at least two redemption arcs. It has dark moments but nothing the book didn't cover.I have no idea what I'm doing.





	1. 1

Wuthering Heights opened its doors for the first time for the third time on a stormy October Thursday at exactly six o'clock. The old wooden tables gleamed with fresh polish, the air was heavy with the acidic bite of freshly ground coffee, and Heathcliff stood at attention behind the counter. 

Everyone was curious, of course, to see what had become of the place, and a steady trickle of the curious, the nosy, and the tired came through the creaking door. 

Heathcliff was a disappointment; he greeted everyone with a tight lipped smile that betrayed no secrets, no hint of the weeks leading up to that moment. People left with coffee and nothing else. 

But Ellen Dean was not so easily deterred. 

She slipped into the back of the line and looked around. Heathcliff had done a good job restoring it. It wasn't quite the same, of course; Hindley threw away nearly everything years ago, and Heathcliff didn't seem interested in hunting down replacements.

Nelly couldn't blame him for leaving the shelves of ceramic angels in the past, but the cafe felt cold with the empty shelves and bare windows. The only decoration was crayon drawings taped to the wall behind the counter. 

The woman in front of her stepped aside and Nelly was finally at the counter. Heathcliff's smile slipped a little. Nelly leaned on the counter. "Why didn't you tell me you were in town?" 

Heathcliff looked at the line behind her. "Can we do this later?" 

"No." 

Heathcliff mumbled something and refilled the espresso machine. Nelly peeked behind the counter. "Are you all alone back there?" 

"No." 

Nelly walked behind the counter. "I'm pretty sure it's just you." 

Heathcliff pushed past her and set two cups on the counter. "It's supposed to be just me."

Nelly put on the spare apron. "I'll help if you talk." 

The man at the front of the line coughed. 

Nelly smiled. "Hi, what can I get for you?" 

Heathcliff frothed milk aggressively while the man ordered. "I don't want help, Nelly." 

Nelly handed him a cup. "But you need it. And he asked for almond milk." 

Heathcliff huffed and disappeared in the back of the store. 

Nelly poured hot chocolate into a cup. "So why didn't you tell me you were in town?" 

Heathcliff stuck his head out. "I forgot. And tell him we're out of almond but we have soy." 

Nelly set the hot chocolate on the counter. "Are you okay with soy?" 

The man nodded. 

Nelly walked back to the cash register. "He's okay with-"

"I saw him." 

Nelly put three cookies in a bag. "You were too busy for six weeks to answer your phone once?"

Heathcliff sprayed whipped cream onto a latte. "The phone broke and I haven't gotten a new one." 

The woman behind the counter stared in horror. "Six weeks with no phone?" 

"Would you mind your own-"

Heathcliff stopped, sighed, and forced a smile. It looked more like a grimace. "Can I get you something?" 

"I'd like a decaf medium Americano, please."

Nelly set two cups on the counter. "Even if you didn't have a phone, you could have still told me you were in town." 

Heathcliff set a muffin on the counter. "Telling you means telling everyone and I didn't want to tell everyone." 

Nelly dumped coffee grounds into the sink. "Why didn't you want everyone to know? It would have been good for business." 

Heathcliff shrugged and poured syrup over coffee. 

Nelly turned back to the counter. "Hi, what can I-" 

The line was gone. 

Heathcliff set the last drink down and the final customer scurried out into the rain. Nelly hung up her apron and poured herself a mug of tea. 

Heathcliff frowned. "You can't just-" 

"It's my payment for helping you." 

Nelly sat down in a barstool. "So why didn't you tell me? Were you worried Edgar would try something?" 

Heathcliff didn't answer. He pulled out a rag and started cleaning the counter. 

Nelly sipped her tea. "Or were you afraid Cathy would hear and not do anything?" 

Heathcliff slammed the spray bottle down. "Ellen, you- Good morning! What can I get for you?" 

The old woman squinted at the board. "Hmm..." 

Nelly pushed the spray bottle away. "I didn't just interrogate you. I worked, remember?" 

"And you gave yourself tea for it, so we're even." 

The old woman tapped Nelly. "Is this the Grange?" 

Nelly shook her head. "No, the Grange is down the street." 

"Do you work here now?" 

Heathcliff looked up from the sink he was cleaning. "She does when she wants to." 

The old woman's face lit up. "Could you make me a London Fog? You make them the best." 

Nelly looked at Heathcliff. Heathcliff shrugged. Nelly said, "Sure, why not?" and walked back behind the counter. 

Heathcliff rang the woman up and Nelly set the tea down. The old woman's eyes crinkled and she sat down in the corner. 

Nelly returned to the bar. Heathcliff kept cleaning. He glanced back over his shoulder every few minutes. Nelly was still there. 

Heathcliff hung the broom up with a sigh and leaned on the counter. "Will you leave if i tell you?" 

Nelly smiled into her cup. "For today." 

Heathcliff scowled. 

She rolled her eyes. "I work five days and I go to church on another. You won't see me again for a week, at least."

Heathcliff glanced at the old woman. She seemed uninterested in them. "Fine. I didn't want Catherine to think I was doing this to get her attention, and I thought telling the whole town would make it seem that way." 

"But you are doing this for attention, right? Reopening her father's cafe?" 

Heathcliff folded his arms. "Maybe I just like cafes."

She took a drink. "You might like coffee, but you hate talking to people. This is for Cathy." 

Heathcliff turned away and put fresh grounds in the espresso machine. "Actually, i consider myself a people person." 

Nelly snorted tea out of her nose. Heathcliff threw a rag at her. Nelly wiped up the tea and cackled. "It's just that you're so,,, I can't,,," 

She took a deep breath. "It's just so ridiculous."

The bell on the door dinged and a mother walked in with three children. Heathcliff tried to smile. "Good morning!" 

Nelly kept giggling while the mother ordered a large coffee and three cookies. 

Heathcliff set the cookies down. "Are you done, Nelly?" 

Nelly wiped the tears from her eyes. "I actually came here to tell you something."

Heathcliff groaned and poured milk into the cup. 

Nelly watched the family in the corner of her eye until they left. The old woman appeared to be sleeping. Nelly leaned forward. 

"Cathy's not been- I mean, since you're doing this for her, I thought you should know that she's not- she's not gonna know, Heathcliff. She's been really sick." 

Heathcliff frowned. "Sick how?" 

"Encephalitis. She's not a vegetable, but she's not all there." 

Heathcliff leaned on a different part of the counter. "Is she dying?" 

Nelly shrugged. "They don't know. She's been better, but she's not out of the woods." 

Heathcliff nodded slowly. 

Nelly stood up. "That's all. I just thought you should know." 

Heathcliff straightened. "Thanks." 

Nelly opened the door and looked over her shoulder. "The place looks great, by the way." 

Before the door could close, the bell rang again and a businessman walked in. Heathcliff smiled. "What can I get for you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Hareton Earnshaw was an extraordinary child. At least, Heathcliff thought so. He was all the things a child should be: he climbed everything, he didn't mind frozen food, and he had an uncomplicated emotional life.

Hareton's teachers did not agree, and so, for the second time that month, Heathcliff was bent over the kitchen table with Hareton trying to remember long division.

"Okay. So you take the three-" Heathcliff tapped the denominator with a pencil, "And you see how many times it fits into one, which is zero times."

Hareton was drawing an airplane on the scratch paper.

Heathcliff took away his pencil. "I need you to focus. How many threes fit into a one?"

Hareton scrunched up his face. "One third?"

"No- well, yes, but how many _whole_ threes?"

"Zero."

Heathcliff nodded. "So then you have to, uh, you look at the first two numbers together. How many threes fit into eleven?"

Hareton was staring out the window.

Heathcliff couldn't see what was interesting about the blank wall of the insurance company next door, but he pulled the blinds down anyway. "How many threes, Hareton?"

"Into what?"

Heathcliff leant his head against the window. The blinds snapped out of shape.

"Into eleven."

"Three."

Heathcliff turned back around. The blinds snapped back into place. "Right. So what do you do with the two that didn't fit in?"

Hareton looked at the paper. "Do I fit it into the six?"

"Yes!" Heathcliff sat down. "Yes, you put it into the six. How many twos in the six, Hareton?"

Hareton held up three fingers.

"So what's the answer?"

Hareton had taken Heathcliff's pencil and was drawing buildings beneath the plane.

"How many threes in a hundred and sixteen, Hareton?"

Hareton looked at the paper. "I don't remember."

Heathcliff stood back up and walked the ten feet into the kitchen. Hareton cried when Heathcliff got angry, which was unfortunate, because he was angry a lot. He took a deep breath. "Okay. I want you to do what we just did by yourself."

Hareton scribbled quietly. Heathcliff thought about trying to cook chicken again, but he didn't really want to scrape a pan tonight, so he settled on a frozen pizza.

Hareton tapped him as he put the pizza into the oven and he looked down. "Did you figure it out?"

Hareton handed him the scratch paper. It had a plane bombing a city on it and a small crowd of burning people flailing.

Heathcliff handed the paper back. "Can we do your homework now that you're done with your picture?"

Hareton pouted but he let Heathcliff push him back towards the kitchen table. Heathcliff forced an unconvincing smile. "So we're gonna do the math now, right?"

Hareton nodded. He sat down while Heathcliff bent over him. "Tell me how to divide a hundred and sixteen by three."

Hareton tapped the one. "First you have to try putting it into the one, but it doesn't all fit, so then you try the eleven and it fits so then you take the rest of the eleven-"

"How many times does it fit in eleven?"

"It fits-" Hareton counted on his fingers. "It fits in three times."

"Right," said Heathcliff. "Keep going."

"Then you take the rest of the eleven and put it into six and it fits in three times so three goes into one hundred and sixteen thirty three times."

Heathcliff squeezed his shoulders. "Yes! Can you do the rest of the page?"

Hareton blinked. "I think so."

Heathcliff smelled burnt cheese and ran to pull out the pizza. It was a little burnt, but that covered the taste of the freezerburn, so it worked out okay. He put all the slices on the last clean plate and set it down on the side of the table with no homework.

Hareton inhaled two pieces and ran off to take a break. Heathcliff let him. He'd done two problems already, and there were only eight. Maybe Heathcliff could finish for him and use his right hand. It basically looked like little kid handwriting when he did that.

He traced the grooves in the tabletop with a finger. Most were scuffs that came with age, but some were names. _Cathy_ _Rulez_ _,_ _Cathy_ _was_ _here,_ _Her_ _Majesty_ _Catherine_ _Guinevere_ _Earnshaw,_ _Cathy_ _loves_ _chocolate._ He could barely make out the shaky _H_ she'd talked him into scratching with a butter knife all those years ago.

Catherine wasn't carving her name anymore. Heathcliff wondered if she could still write. He had heard of a woman who forgot how to read after falling down the stairs, but Cathy was sick, not battered. He wondered if that made a difference.

Heathcliff looked at the clock. It was almost time to put Hareton to bed and the perfect excuse to not crawl through six more problems.

Heathcliff set the plate by the sink next to the plates from yesterday and the day before. "Hareton?"

Hareton ran out of his room with a bucket on his head and several toilet paper rolls taped together.

"It's almost bedtime, so I'm going to just tell you what to write, okay?"

Hareton's voice was wobbly from inside the bucket. "But I didn't get to play."

Heathcliff pulled off the bucket. "Yeah, it sucks."

Hareton dragged his feet to the kitchen table and sat down, sniffling. Heathcliff sat next to him and dictated. Hareton stayed mostly focused. It was over quickly.

Heathcliff gave a sigh of relief. "Good job, kid."

Hareton rubbed his nose on his sleeve. "Can i stay up a little longer?"

Heathcliff put the papers into Hareton's backpack. "It's late. You should go to bed."

Hareton looked up at Heathcliff with wide, wet eyes. " _Please?_ "

Heathcliff looked at the clock. It took half an hour the last time he spent all night doing homework to calm him down.

"Fifteen minutes, but you have to put on pyjamas now."

Hareton hugged him and scampered off.

Heathcliff collapsed on the sofa. This was Thursday. They could space tomorrow's homework out, or they could have two days off. Maybe Heathcliff could do it all himself in ten minutes.

Hareton ran back in wearing footie pyjamas. "Do you wanna see a play?"

Heathcliff pushed himself up. "If you can finish before bedtime."

Hareton beamed and set down a lion and a walrus under a blanket and spent the next half hour acting out a murder investigation.

Heathcliff clapped when Hareton found the bad guy (a plastic toy from McDonald's.) Hareton trotted off to brush his teeth while Heathcliff picked the toys up and put them back on Hareton's floor. The plastic bin they kept toys in was broken, and Heathcliff kept forgetting to buy a new one.

Hareton crawled into bed. Heathcliff picked a book up off the floor. Hareton snuggled deeper under the dinosaur covers and Heathcliff began.

"The Dinosaur Who Swallowed the Moon.

Once upon a time there lived a dinosaur named Geoffrey. Geoffrey had a-"

Hareton tapped the page. "You forgot the word bubbles."

Heathcliff rolled his eyes and started over.

"Once upon a time there lived a dinosaur named Geoffrey.

"'That's me!'

"Geoffrey had-"

"Hannah says her dad does voices when he reads," said Hareton.

Heathcliff frowned. "You know I don't do voices."

Hareton's face crumpled.

Heathcliff sighed. " _Fine_ , I'll try."

Heathcliff took a deep breath. "OnceuponatimetherewasadinoeaurnamedGeoffrey."

He paused. He needed a voice. All he could think of was Mickey Mouse.

"That's me!"

It sounded more like a dying rat, but Hareton didn't complain, so Heathcliff kept going.

"Geoffrey had a long neck for eating trees."

Hareton's eyes widened. " _Whole_ trees?

Heathcliff shushed him because he didn't want to admit he didn't know.

"But Geoffrey wanted to eat the moon. It looked like a very tasty fruit that was always out of reach. No matter how far Geoffrey stretched his neck, he couldn't reach."

"Because the moon is in space," said Hareton.

Heathcliff glared at him. "You're supposed to be falling asleep. And yes, it is in space, but Geoffrey doesn't know that because he's a dinosaur."

Heathcliff kept reading. "Geoffrey climbs up a tree to reach the moon, but it's still too far away. In fact, it doesn't seem any closer."

Hareton was sitting up. "Why couldn't a dinosaur understand?"

Heathcliff took a deep breath. "Dinosaurs didn't have school."

"Oh."

Hareton lies back down.

"The next night, Geoffrey tried climbing a mountain, but the moon was _still_ too far away!"

"Why didn't dinosaurs have school?"

Heathcliff shut the book. "Holy shit, Hareton."

Hareton kept looking at Heathcliff.

Heathcliff pinched the bridge of his nose as hard as he could. Five minutes and he would be done. Just five minutes. He could be cool for five minutes.

"They hadn't learned how to write down history and math and stuff so they didn't have anything to learn. Can I _please_ finish the book now?"

Hareton nodded.

Heathcliff flipped the book back open. "Geoffrey's friend Matilda saw him and asked why he was so sad. 'Why are you-'"

"You need different voices for everyone."

Five more minutes.

Heathcliff tried his best to sound like a girl that was also a giant scaly chicken with teeth. "'Why are you sad, Geoffrey?'

"'Because I can't reach the moon.'

"'I will try flying to the moon and bringing it down for you.'

"So Matilda flew as high as she possibly could but she still couldn't reach the moon."

Hareton sat up and crawled closer to Heathcliff. Heathcliff pushed him back. "You're falling asleep, remember?"

Hareton tucked himself back in and Heathcliff kept reading.

"Then the moon looked down and asked Geoffrey why he kept trying to eat him."

Hareton crawled closer to Heathcliff while still under the covers. Heathcliff pushed him back. "You can't move and fall asleep at the same time.

"'Why are you trying to eat me, little dinosaur?'

"'Because I thought you were a fruit.'

"'I am not a fruit. I am a moon.'"

"Are there other moons?"

Five more minutes. Heathcliff pulled the blankets firmly over Hareton. "If you interrupt again, I won't finish."

Hareton was quiet for the rest of the book. Heathcliff dropped the book on the floor and kissed Hareton goodnight. Hareton hugged Heathcliff's neck.

Heathcliff tried to sit up, but Hareton didn't let go. Heathcliff tugged at Hareton's arms. Hareton held on tighter. "Please don't go."

Heathcliff ducked out of his hold. "I have work to do. You'll be fine."

Hareton grabbed his arm. "But what about the mummy in the closet?"

Heathcliff pried one tiny hand off. "You know there's no mummies in your closet."

Hareton gripped him tighter. "But what if one walked in there?"

Heathcliff stood up. Hareton was still hanging onto him. "I'll check the closet, even though that's stupid, but if I do you have to promise to stay in bed tonight."

Hareton let go. Heathcliff opened the closet door. "See? Nothing."

Hareton held his lion very tightly. Heathcliff turned off the light and stepped into the hallway. "You'll be fine. I promise."

Hareton's eyes did not look convinced as Heathcliff shut the door.

He couldn't put the dishes off any longer, so Heathcliff washed the easier half and put them away. Then he did a load of laundry. He didn't bother separating out the loads because he didn't really care how white his towels were and also because he was tired.

Heathcliff thought about cleaning the fridge and decided to keep putting it off. He didn't really know how to get that grey stuff off the side, anyway. 

Heathcliff brushed his teeth with the bathroom door open in case Hareton ran out crying about monsters. Hareton did not. Heathcliff let himself relax. He was done for the night.

He pulled off his shirt while he walked to his bedroom and smelled it before putting it away. He could wear it at least another day.

Heathcliff kicked his jeans off and flopped onto his mattress without bothering to look for pyjamas. He pulled _The_ _Shining_ out from under the blankets and tried reading, but the words blurred together and he set it down and turned off the light.

He couldn't sleep. All he could think about was Cathy locked in a sterile room, and Hindley trying to kidnap Hareton, and Cathy sick and alone and confused, and how sometimes spiders get stuck in people's ears, and Cathy dying all by herself and wondering why he never came back, and how if he had a spider stuck in his ear he would probably cut off his ear to get it out, and Cathy wandering a hospital in death forever and ever even after the metal rusts to nothing and the ceiling falls and its name is long forgotten, searching forever for someone she can't remember, searching for _him_.

Heathcliff didn't remember falling asleep, only pulling a blanket over his head to keep out spiders, but he must have fallen asleep because he woke to tiny hands shaking him.

Heathcliff rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head.

Hareton tugged at the pillow. "Heathcliff there's a mummy in my room I _saw_ it it was coming for me _you_ _have_ _to_ _help_ _me_ please don't send me back _please_ _don't_ _make_ _me_ _go_ _back_."

Heathcliff pushed himself up on his elbows. Hareton was shaking, and his hair was stuck to his face with tears. Heathcliff collapsed back onto the mattress. "You can stay in here if you want. But this is the _last_ _time_."

Hareton nodded like he did every time and he crawled in next to Heathcliff. Heathcliff flinched when his icy little feet brushed his back. Hareton hung an arm over Heathcliff's neck and closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds.

Heathcliff adjusted so Hareton's arm wasn't in his face. It was such a small arm, really. His hand was half the size of Heathcliff's at most. Heathcliff kissed the tiny hand and closed his eyes.


	3. I rewrote this ten times

The wind sank its teeth into Heathcliff's bare skin, warning of ice and snow come to freeze the clouds and Earth and concrete. For now, though, the steady drizzle of rain ran down his hair and pooled round his feet.

 

Heathcliff didn't mind. He liked sitting outside, face up, until he felt cold, or wet, or _something_. He didn't yet, not in a way that mattered, but he had time. The cafe was closed for the night, and Hareton was busy making a potion from dandelions in a plastic bucket.

 

Heathcliff distantly thought that it was bad for children to play in harsh weather, but he didn't know if it was actually true, and he didn't care enough to pull Hareton inside. Not before he felt something.

 

Cars sped past, one after another, too fast for him to see any one and too slow for them to fade into the background. It was almost soothing. Heathcliff closed his eyes and listened to the steady hum of the town's beating heart.

 

Hareton screamed.

 

Heathcliff jerked to attention. Hareton wasn't hit, was he? He knew not to play in the street by now, right?

 

Hareton was still ankle deep in mud and pointing at the road.

 

A woman in a nightgown was in the middle of it. A car was blocking a lane, but it didn't look damaged. The passenger door was open. The woman pulled herself upright and lurched towards Heathcliff.

 

Heathcliff jumped up and yelled, "Code green!"

 

Hareton didn't remember what that meant, but most of the codes involved Hareton locking himself in the bathroom, so he ran to do just that.

 

Heathcliff backed up against the door once Hareton ran through. He knew the woman probably _wasn't_ a zombie, but he also knew that people never expect the first zombie to be a zombie.

 

The woman was only a couple feet away. Her legs were thin and her stomach swollen. She reached for him and Heathcliff hopped out of the way.

 

"Heathcliff?"

 

The wind whipped the woman's hair out of her face. It was bloodless, painfully thin, and unforgettable.

 

Heathcliff pulled Catherine into himself. She felt too fragile, too bony and cold. She felt a little like that dead cat Heathcliff took to the vet when he was eight or nine, back before he knew what death looked like. Heathcliff knew now, and he knew Catherine was dying.

 

Cathy shook under him while he cradled her. Her dress was wet. She was wet. It was raining. It was cold. She needed to be warm. And dry.

 

The car's horn honked. It had been honking for awhile, but Heathcliff couldn't say how long. Cars were piling up behind it.

 

Edgar ran out and shut the passenger door. Heathcliff pointed to the cafe. " _I'm_ _taking_ _her_ _inside!_ "

 

Edgar started the car and stuck his head as far out the passenger window as he could. " _I'll_ _be_ _right_ _there!_ "

 

Heathcliff picked Catherine up and shouldered the door to get inside. It stuck again. He kept forgetting to oil it.

 

He carried Cathy up the stairs in the back of the shop and into his- house? apartment?- and set her down on the sofa. She didn't support herself like Heathcliff expected her to and flopped over. He cradled her and held his hand above her nose. She was still breathing.

 

Heathcliff cried. He held her head to his shoulder with one hand and held her up with the other and he bowed his head over her and sobbed silently. His tears mixed with the rain already soaked into her nightgown.

 

The bell downstairs rang and frantic footsteps ran up the stairs. Edgar ran in and knelt by Cathy. "How is she?"

 

Heathcliff took a deep breath and held her tighter. "She's sleeping, i think. She's definitely breathing."

 

"I need to see her eyes."

 

Heathcliff repositioned her so get face pointed out. Edgar forced up her eyelids and shone the penlight on his keys into them.

 

Edgar paled and patted his pockets. Heathcliff pulled Catherine back towards him. "Is something wrong?"

 

"Do you have a phone?"

 

"Yeah. Hareton!"

 

Hareton cracked open the bathroom door.

 

"Edgar needs to call someone."

 

Hareton stepped out. "Is code green over?"

 

Heathcliff nodded. "Cathy's not a zombie."

 

Edgar walked into the bathroom and found a landline with emergency numbers next to it. He dialed 999. "Hello? We need an ambulance. I think my wife's aneurysm burst."

 

Hareton stood in the corner of the room.

 

Heathcliff couldn't remember first aid for a brain aneurysm. Was there first aid for that? He kissed Catherine's head. He knew he would not see her again.

 

Edgar stuck his head out. "Can you wake her up?"

 

Heathcliff gently shook Catherine. Nothing. He covered her nose and mouth with a hand. Nothing.

 

"No."

 

Edgar ducked back into the bathroom.

 

Hareton cautiously watched Catherine from the far side of the room. Heathcliff quickly dried his face. He didn't want Hareton to see him cry.

 

Edgar slowly walked back out and sat down. "The ambulance will be here in twenty minutes."

 

" _Twenty?"_

 

Edgar stroked Catherine's hair. "It's too long, but driving will take longer."

 

Heathcliff turned away and rubbed his face again. He wouldn't cry in front of Hareton. _Or_ Edgar.

 

"I wish she hadn't run out."

 

Heathcliff didn't turn to look at him. "If you'd let me see her, she wouldn't have wanted to."

 

"If you'd told us you were here, i could have taken another street."

 

"You said you'd get a restraining order if you saw me again! Why the hell would I call you?"

 

Edgar turned away. "I was just trying to keep her safe. I mean, i also hate you, but I was mostly trying to keep her safe. Did you know she was sick before?"

 

Heathcliff carefully cradled her head. "Nelly mentioned it once, but I don't know anything about it."

 

Edgar laughed. "That's uncharacteristic of her. Catherine was sick like this after you left. The doctor said stress could trigger it again, or something. I didn't really understand what he told me."

 

"If you'd _told_ me that, I wouldn't have fought with her. Hell, we could have worked it out so you never saw me."

 

Edgar was quiet. "Could we have?"

 

"For Cathy? Absolutely."

 

They were silent.

 

Heathcliff held her cold, cold hand. "We won't have to see each other ever again, after this."

 

"She could pull through again."

 

Heathcliff shook his head.

 

Edgar scowled. "She could be okay! People survive worse things all the time!"

 

Heathcliff didn't bother arguing.

 

Something shuffled in the corner. Hareton! Heathcliff had forgotten he was still here. He waved Hareton over.

 

Hareton carefully stepped towards him but stayed out of Cathy's reach, just in case. Heathcliff approved.

 

"Do you want to see your aunt, Hareton?"

 

Hareton shook his head.

 

"You might not get another chance."

 

Edgar opened his mouth and closed it again. Hareton took a tiny step forward and a big step back.

 

Cathy was still breathing, but her jaw was slack, and she was starting to drool. Heathcliff shut her mouth and Edgar wiped her face. Hareton left and locked himself in the bathroom again.

 

Heathcliff and Edgar didn't speak again until the ambulance arrived. They both caressed her, Edgar with frantic terror and Heathcliff with resigned sorrow. Hareton cracked the door open every couple of minutes to make sure Catherine hadn't tried eating Heathcliff.

 

When the ambulance came, Heathcliff carried Catherine down the stairs and didn't let go right away when they tried taking her. Edgar climbed in the ambulance with her and they were gone in a blur of flashing lights and machinated noises.

 

Heathcliff didn't remember walking upstairs and giving Hareton a bad explanation and putting him to bed. Crying on the sofa and in the bathroom and in bed ran together.

 

Against his better judgement, Heathcliff called Edgar in the middle of the night. It took a couple tries, but Edgar picked up.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Is she dead?"

 

Edgar was silent for a second. "How did you get my number?"

 

"Nelly. Is she alive?"

 

"Why would- we'll talk about that later."

 

Heathcliff thought he could hear crying on the other end.

 

"Sorry," Edgar said. "I had to talk to a nurse. She's not dead."

 

Heathcliff leaned against the counter. "She's alive?"

 

"Sort of."

 

Heathcliff waited.

 

"They said she's brain dead, but they're leaving her on life support. For the kid."

 

Heathcliff sank to the floor. "So she _is_ dead."

 

Edgar's voice sped up. "No! No, no, no, she's just _probably_ dead. _Mostly_ dead. Comatose. Vegetative. Not _dead_."

 

Neither one spoke.

 

Edgar broke the silence. "You could... visit her. If you wanted. Later."

 

Heathcliff took a deep breath. "I will. I, uh, need to check on Hareton now. Goodbye."

 

"Goodb-"

 

Heathcliff hung up the phone harder than he meant to. Hareton started screaming and wouldn't calm down because he was convinced that was the sound of a sarcophagus opening, so Heathcliff lied down with him. Hareton fell asleep almost immediately, but Heathcliff didn't try leaving.


	4. Nelly Disregards Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nelly and Heathcliff both have blind spots, but they're trying. Hareton saw five minutes of a horror movie on accident two months ago and never recovered emotionally.

Nelly came back on Thursday morning, as promised. She was late, and braced herself for the crowds, but the windows were dark and the door was locked.

Nelly pulled out the key she had from when she ran the cafe. The key turned with a scream. She walked upstairs and knocked.

"No one's home!" yelled Hareton.

"It's Nelly!"

Little feet scrabbled behind the door and pushed a chair over to look through the peep hole.

"It _is_ you! Heathcliff says we're moving to Bolivia and farming alpacas, so he's not making coffee anymore."

Nelly didn't bother trying to understand that.

"Are you two okay?"

A series of shrieking metal sounds followed, then a thudding noise, and finally the opening of the door. Hareton stepped into the hallway. "He's turning into a zombie."

Nelly blinked. "Was he... attacked by one?"

Hareton nodded. "Cathy came here and she was a zombie."

"Can I see him?"

Hareton thought for a moment. "Only if you don't tell him I let you in."

Nelly promised and stepped into the flat. It was a mess. Dishes were piled in the sink, toys and empty food packages littered the floor, and nothing had been scrubbed or vacuumed in weeks.

Nelly walked past the mess into the room Heathcliff had as a child. She knocked. Hareton locked himself in the bathroom.

No one answered, so Nelly opened the door. His floor was invisible beneath the mounds of clothes, he didn't have any furniture, and the band posters he'd had at fourteen were still rolled up in the corner.

Nelly poked a suspicious pile of blankets with her foot. Something under it squirmed. She pulled the blankets up.

Heathcliff was curled in a ball, wearing old pyjamas. He looked like he was asleep, but Nelly knew better.

She grabbed his arm and yanked. Heathcliff tried pulling it back. Nelly pulled harder. Heathcliff was just too heavy for her to pull up.

Nelly grabbed his hair with her other hand. Heathcliff whimpered a little and freed his hair, but not before Nelly had him standing up. She took his arm again and dragged him into the hall. "You're far too old for this. You know Hareton thinks you're dying, right?"

Heathcliff didn't react. Nelly hugged him. "You were with Cathy, weren't you?"

Heathcliff nodded.

"Then you probably already know that-"

Hareton opened the door. Nelly pushed Heathcliff into the bathroom. "We'll talk later. Make sure you clean _everything_."

Heathcliff stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door. Hareton tapped Nelly's arm. "Is he a zombie?"

Nelly laughed. "No, he's fine. He's just being a teenager. Thought he'd have grown out of it by now."

Nelly walked into the kitchen. "Do you need breakfast?"

Hareton nodded. Nelly pulled out a pan and noted that the stack of horrors had spared anything used to prepare food, somehow. She opened the fridge.

Heathcliff didn't have any eggs. Or vegetables. He had milk, and butter, and an unopened jar of jam, and not much else. Nelly checked the cupboards and found orange peels.

"Most of our food is frozen," explained Hareton. "And we're running out of that too."

Nelly put the pan back in the cupboard. "I'm going grocery shopping. Do you take the bus to school?"

Hareton nodded.

Nelly looked at her watch. "Okay. Come with me. I'll get you breakfast and a lunch for school and you can go to the bus from the store while I finish."

Nelly rapped on the bathroom door and explained the plan. He didn't acknowledge it, so Nelly taped a note to the wall opposite the bathroom door before she left.

* * *

 

Hareton ate a pre-made yogurt parfait for breakfast, but only after Nelly bribed him with oranges. He was a little confused by the salad she gave him for lunch, but she said she'd give him extra special oranges after school if he ate all of it. Hareton didn't question her omnipotence and ran to catch the bus.

Nelly put Mandarin and blood oranges in the shopping cart, since she didn't actually know if he'd eat it all.

Nelly only picked up one package of real meat. She figured the boys voluntarily making turkey sandwiches and carrots was enough of a learning curve for one day.

When she got home, Heathcliff was curled up on the sofa crying. He was still in pyjamas.

Nelly set the grocery bags down with a thud. She pushed Heathcliff off the sofa. "Go get real clothes on."

Heathcliff stood back up with as much dignity as possible and started putting groceries away. Nelly scowled. "That's not what I-"

"I'm an adult now. I can do what I want."

Nelly poked her finger through a hole in his shirt. "Can you change into something that's in one piece?"

Heathcliff ignored her and kept pulling groceries out of bags.

Nelly was not to be defeated. "It looks like a face. This hole is the mouth, this one is the nose, these two are eyes... This one could be an ear..."

Heathcliff pulled his shirt out of her hands and stormed into his room. Nelly smiled and brought up the rest of the groceries.

Heathcliff reemerged in clothes that weren't technically pyjamas but may as well have been. They were in one piece, though, so Nelly let it slide.

Heathcliff helped put away the rest of the groceries and then flopped back onto the sofa. Nelly opened the cupboard. "If I make two sandwiches, will you eat one?"

Heathcliff shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Nelly pulled out four slices. "When was the last time you had real food?"

"The day bef-"

Heathcliff caught himself and glared. "That's none of your business."

Nelly pulled turkey and cheese out of the fridge. "Hareton told me this morning that you were bitten by a zombie and planning to farm alpacas."

Heathcliff watched her slice an onion. "Cathy didn't bite me. I can see why he thought she was a zombie though."

Nelly spread mayonnaise. "And the alpacas?"

"I was joking."

Nelly raised an eyebrow.

Heathcliff looked away. "I might have panicked a tiny bit."

Nelly closed the sandwiches and slid them onto plates. She didn't really see a good place to set them, so she just handed one to Heathcliff and sat down next to him. Heathcliff stared at his for awhile.

Nelly poked him with her free hand. "Eat."

Heathcliff took one bite and set it back down.

Nelly set her own back down and folded her arms. Heathcliff picked his sandwich back up.

He finished it and threw up his hands. "Are you happy now?"

"I wasn't going to talk to you about the sandwich."

Heathcliff scowled and took his dish to the sink. He turned away.

Nelly stood up. "Clean it. You need to start doing your dishes."

She walked around the room, gesturing. "You need to be cleaner. Look at this place! It's a dump!"

She picked a razor off the floor. "Why is this under the dining table? Heathcliff, this is actually dangerous."

Heathcliff put the plate away and picked up the razor. "Happy?"

"Nope."

Nelly grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of spray. "It's not just the mess. You were eating frozen food three meals a day. You weren't showering. Nobody was doing any laundry-"

Heathcliff grabbed the paper towels. "First of all, I _was_ doing laundry. And you can't just barge into my life and yell at me-"

Nelly grabbed a rag. "This isn't about you, it's about Hareton. Kids need vegetables and clean rooms and _adults_ who are _present_ and not crying under a laundry pile."

Heathcliff tried grabbing the spray, but Nelly sidestepped him. "I know this is hard on you, but you need to keep it together and act like an adult for him. You can't just do whatever you want anymore."

Heathcliff smacked the paper towels against the counter for emphasis. "You have _no_ (smack) _idea_ (smack) how much i am 'keeping it together!'  _No_ _idea!_ And you can't- you _left_ him, Ellen! With Hindley! So don't act like you've got his best interests at heart when-"

Nelly jabbed the rag at him. "I _reported_ it, I _tried_ to-"

"Well it wasn't enough! But _I_ got him out, and sure, I had a bad week, and I still don't know how to cook chicken, but we're okay! We're okay! No one's hurting him! So you can go."

Heathcliff grabbed her shoulder and pushed her towards the door. "It's fine. You can go. Obligation fulfilled. You waltzed in and saved the day and-"

"Cathy had a kid last night."

Heathcliff froze.

Nelly shook free and turned around. "She gave birth early. Her daughter's healthy for a preemie."

Heathcliff hugged himself. Nelly steered him back towards the sofa. Heathcliff sat down, but Nelly didn't.

"Cathy's- you probably know- Cathy's gone. Her brain looks like- it's bad, Heathcliff. She can't even breathe on her own."

Heathcliff didn't bother trying to hide his tears. "She's gone?"

Nelly shook her head. "Edgar won't turn it off. He think thinks there's-"

"I don't care what he thinks. Is She dead?"

Nelly fidgeted a little. She wasn't sure what to say, because she wasnt sure what she thought.

"I don't think she's going to get better, and I don't think she's really alive now, but -"

Heathcliff stood up. "I need to be alone."

"We're not done-"

Heathcliff brushed past her and into his bedroom. Nelly heard the door slam. She tried following, but he'd pushed his dresser in front of it again.

Nelly knocked on his door. "Heathcliff, this is childish."

Silence.

She knocked again. "Please talk to me."

Silence.

Nelly checked the time on her phone. "You've got two hours before Hareton comes home. You need to be acting like an adult by then."

Nelly waited for a minute before sitting down and finishing her sandwich. She kept her eyes on the door, but it didn't open. She picked up her plate, and the plates on the table, and started washing them.

Nelly heard the dresser scooting again but didn't turn around. She kept putting away dishes until Heathcliff cleared his throat.

Nelly was careful not to look smug when she faced him. He had his arms firmly folded over his chest and a set jaw.

"Will you teach me to cook chicken?"

Nelly smiled. "Yes. Yes, I can teach you to cook."

She kept washing the dishes. "I'll walk you through it tonight."

Heathcliff didn't move.

Nelly glanced over her shoulder. "No point making it now. I hope you don't mind me staying for dinner."

"If you're planning on trying to get custody, I'm going to fight you."

Nelly set down the bowl. "I know. I'm not going to do that."

"Because he's been- he needs things to be steady. I don't think he could handle that, Nelly."

Nelly turned around. "You're probably right. But they can be steady _and_ clean."

Heathcliff nodded and Nelly finished the last couple dishes.

Nelly picked the paper towels off the ground and handed them to him. "Would you rather clean the kitchen or the bathroom?"

Heathcliff took the spray bottle. "I can do the bathroom."

Nelly heard the door click shut behind him and quieter sobbing than earlier. She started walking towards the door, but she stopped. Anything she said right now would probably just start another fight. Nelly picked the rag off the floor and got to work.

* * *

 

An hour and a half later, an alarm went off from Heathcliff's room. He crossed the hall, wiping tears off his face.

Nelly followed, grateful for a break. "Set it for the wrong time?"

Heathcliff turned it off. "Five minutes until Hareton comes home."

He walked back to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.

Nelly frowned. "Does this happen often?"

Heathcliff dried his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Not when I'm working."

Nelly kept frowning. Heathcliff glared. "It's not a big deal. I just don't like crying in front of him. It scares him."

Nelly couldn't actually figure out what part of that to argue with, so she let it go.

The bathroom wasn't clean, exactly, but it no longer looked like she needed a hazmat suit to enter. Heathcliff picked up the garbage bag and carried it out. When he came back up, Hareton was trailing behind and talking about spaceships.

Hareton ran to Nelly as soon as he saw her. "I ate my whole salad! Look!" He opened his lunchbox to show her an empty salad container. "All gone!"

Nelly smiled. "Good job! You want a special orange?"

Hareton nodded. He bounced as Nelly took a blood orange from the bag and oooohed when she sliced it.

Nelly set the plate down on the table and watched Hareton devour it. She turned to nudge Heathcliff and gloat, but he was asleep on the sofa.

Hareton left his seat, but Nelly grabbed his shoulder and steered him back. "Hareton, I am going to teach you a very grown up thing. Would you like to be more grown up?"

Hareton nodded.

Nelly took his plate to the trash and dumped the peels in the bin. "When adults are done eating, they scrape their plates..."

Nelly took it to the sink and squirted some soap on it. "...and then they scrub them. Do you want to try?"

Hareton pushed a dining chair over and scrubbed his plate as hard as he could, because that made more bubbles. Convincing him to rinse the bubbles off took more work, but he rinsed the plate off in the end and dried it by himself.

Nelly put the plate back. Hareton put his hands on his hips. "I'm an adult now."

Nelly helped him off the chair. "You're closer to being an adult now."

Hareton dragged the chair back to the table. "Do you want to play a game with me?"

Nelly smiled. "Which game?"

Hareton ran into his room and back out again with _Candyland_. He set it down. "Heathcliff has to set it up, though. I can't read the instructions."

Nelly opened the box. "I think he's asleep, but I-"

Hareton yelped and ran to Heathcliff and started to shake him. "No no no no no _no_ _no_ _no_!! Wake up!! Wake up!! Please don't die!!"

Heathcliff rolled over and mumbled something. Hareton ran into the bathroom.

Nelly ran after him. "Hareton, he's just asleep, you don't-"

Hareton held the phone to his ear. "I need you to send us an ambulance. My dad's a zombie."

Nelly grabbed the phone. "I'm very sorry about that, there was a misunderstanding, everyone is fine."

Nelly hung up. Hareton scowled. "Why would you do that?! He's _dying_!"

Nelly picked Hareton up and walked out of the bathroom. Hareton squirmed. Nelly set him down and knelt by Heathcliff.

"He's just sleeping, Hareton. You can tell because he's still breathing."

Hareton shook his head. "Zombies breathe. Catherine was breathing."

Nelly steepled her fingers. "If Cathy was breathing, then she wasn't a zombie, she was just sick. Zombies are dead."

Hareton didn't say anything; he just kept looking at Heathcliff. Nelly pulled the board out. "You still want to play?"

* * *

 

After a modified game of Candyland that included a twenty sided die, a small felt mouse, and several army men, Hareton was announced the victor and Nelly was left to put the game away.

It was getting close to dinner, so she shook Heathcliff gently.

He stuck his face in between two cushions. "I'm fine, Hareton."

Nelly gave him another shake. "Do you still want a cooking lesson?"

Heathcliff slowly pushed himself up. "What time is it?"

Nelly started pulling out pans. "Dinnertime."

Heathcliff followed. Nelly gave him an onion and told him to start chopping.

Heathcliff looked at the clock. "Shit, I forgot to help Hareton with his homework."

Nelly set down the chicken. "I can do that."

Heathcliff stopped chopping. "I don't know how to make dinner."

Nelly walked into Hareton's room. "You'll be fine. I'll tell you what you do. Hareton?"

Hareton stuck his head out of his closet.

"Homework time."

Hareton obediently followed Nelly back to the table and pulled out his homework. It was covered in red.

Nelly frowned. "Heathcliff, have you seen this?"

"Yeah. What do i do now?"

"Do that again but with chicken."

Nelly pulled out the new assignment. "Heathcliff should really be the one to help you with math, because he tried to start a math club in seventh grade-"

" _We don't talk about that_ ," Heathcliff interjected.

"But I can help with writing."

Nelly tapped the paper. "You're going to trace the 's' and then write out a whole row of them."

Hareton bent over his paper.

Nelly twisted around to look at Heathcliff. "Now put the chicken and onion in the pan."

Heathcliff did. Nelly grinned. "See? We can do this." 

Nelly turned back around. Hareton was drawing dinosaurs on his homework.

Nelly took the sheet back and erased everything. "We can't doodle on homework, Hareton. I need you to draw the 's's."

Hareton nodded and bent back over.

"Fuck!"

Nelly spun around. There was smoke in the air, and Heathcliff had an arm under the faucet.

Heathcliff turned the water off. "I think my sleeves might be a little long."

Nelly got up. "How about you watch me make it instead?"

Heathcliff traded places with her. Nelly looked in the pan. The chicken seemed fine.

Heathcliff erased another dinosaur and watched over Hareton's shoulder while he worked.

Nelly opened a bagged salad. "How's your arm?"

Heathcliff twisted his sleeve. "It's okay. It didn't really get burnt."

Nelly tossed the salad. "Do you want me to look at it?"

Heathcliff erased a stray dinosaur head in the middle of the "s"s. "It's fine, Nelly. I've been burnt before."

Nelly shrugged. "If you say so."

* * *

 

Dinner was uneventful. Hareton was glad for a break from the homework, but getting him started again was nearly impossible. By the time it was over, it was past his bedtime. Hareton cried, but Heathcliff picked him up and carried him to bed anyway.

Nelly listened to Heathcliff read Hareton a book about trains through the wall. He read it three times, and every train had a different voice. She smiled to herself. They were okay; they'd just needed a little nudge.

Heathcliff walked out of his room while she tugged her coat on. "You don't need a bedtime story?"

Heathcliff almost smiled. "I think I'm good."

They walked down the stairs and through the dark cafe. Heathcliff opened the door for her and they stepped onto the sidewalk.

They didn't move right away. Nelly hugged him again. "Thanks for having me over."

Heathcliff didn't hug her back. "You're welcome for not kicking you out after you _broke_ _into_ _my_ _house_."

Nelly patted him. "Try not to burn it down."

Heathcliff pushed away. "Don't get hit by a car on your way home, okay?"

Nelly started walking away. "I'll be back next week."

Nelly walked home slowly. Their city didn't exactly have night life, but there were a few cars left, and a handful of pedestrians like herself. But her walk couldn't last forever, and she found herself on her front step sooner than she liked.

Her house was empty. Not physically- every surface was cluttered with memories- but she was the only one left. She'd promised her mother to take care of it, and even though her mother was in a home across the country and couldn't remember Nelly's name, going back on her word felt obscene.

Nelly kicked her shoes off and thought about watching tv, but staying up alone didn't sound appealing. She changed her clothes and brushed her teeth and lied down on the bed she'd had since she was six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry about the several month gap!! Hopefully the next one won't take so long.


	5. Isabella and Heathcliff Are Both Kind of Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella is awkward. Heathcliff is also kind of awkward, but in a different way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me awhile to figure out how Joseph was involved, ngl. This chapter is shorter, but it took a week, not ten months, so i think overall that's probably a positive.

Isabella Linton had only been in the Heights once. It was six years ago, during the Santa Incident, and she hadn't returned.

 

Until now. It looked different than she remembered- cleaner, busier. She walked in.

 

She didn't recognize Heathcliff at first. He was a foot taller, and he didn't smell, but the really jarring thing was that, at some point since she'd last seen him, he'd become incredibly, unfairly attractive. It was kind of hard to believe he was the same person, but he still had the scar on his cheek from when Cathy blew up a beaker in eighth grade.

 

Isabella realized she was still in the doorway and got in line. She checked herself in the selfie mode of her phone's camera. Her hair was frizzy, and she'd obviously been crying. Was getting out of line to put on makeup weird? Yes, it was. Definitely. But-

 

"...can I help you?"

 

She was at the front of the line. Isabella nodded. "Yes! Yes. Um, I'd like a latte."

 

Heathcliff didn't move. Isabella's heart fluttered. This was it, she was-

 

"What size?"

 

Oh, that was embarrassing.

 

"Medium."

 

He kept staring at her. Did he recognize her?

 

"What flavor?"

 

Great job, Isabella.

 

"Vanilla."

 

She handed him her card. Her face was on fire. She looked like a total idiot. He probably hated her now for being slow.

 

Heathcliff stuck the wrong end in the chip reader three times before flipping it around.

 

He handed it back. "It'll be ready in a minute."

 

Isabella muttered a thank you and sat down at the bar.

 

She watched Heathcliff make coffee for a solid half hour. It was impressive. He was really fast, even if he did run straight into a wall twice. She could see his biceps through his shirt, and his hair fell in his face just a little, and his eyes were so deep. He was perfect. He was a perfect human, and she hadn't even showered yet today.

 

Eventually the line ran out. This was her shot. Make him see her as a woman, and not the dorky kid who was obsessed with dolphins. Isabella screwed up her courage.

 

She opened her mouth and squeaked a little. She took a deep breath and tried again.

 

"How've you been?"

 

Yes! She said it! He was looking at her!

 

Heathcliff squinted at her. "Do i know you?"

 

 

She smiled a little. She must look different, too. "I'm Isabella Linton?"

 

"Oh."

 

Heathcliff blinked.

 

"Oh! Isabella!"

 

Isabella nodded.

 

"I didn't recognize you," Heathcliff said. "Your hair is really pink."

 

She blushed a little. "Yeah, I was bored. I think Edgar hates it."

 

He scowled. "Edgar's a pustulent boil on the ass of humanity. He's never had a half decent opinion in his life."

 

Isabella tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thanks?"

 

Heathcliff leaned against the wall. He didn't say anything right away. Isabella looked over her shoulder to see what he was staring at, but it was just a blank wall.  

 

Heathcliff blinked a lot and looked back down at her. "I'm surprised you're not at the Grange."

 

"Oh, yeah. That."

 

Isabella tapped her thumbs against her cup. "Edgar's kind of avoiding me? So I'm avoiding him so he can't avoid me."

 

Heathcliff nodded slowly.

 

"And Nelly would tell him I was hiding in the Grange. So I'm here."

 

"Ah." Heathcliff nodded a little faster. "Nelly can be a lot."

 

Isabella laughed. "Yeah, sometimes."

 

"She broke into my house last week."

 

Isabella blinked. "What?"

 

Heathcliff crossed his arms. "I mean, she used her old key, but she stayed the whole day."

 

Isabella giggled a little. "Wow."

 

She looked around. "The place looks nice. There's less, um..."

 

Heathcliff waited.

 

Isabella winced. "...drunk Santas?"

 

Heathcliff pushed himself off the wall. "Yeah, it took a long time to get the beer stains off the ceiling."

 

"I can imagine."

 

Isabella took a deep breath. "Um, have you... have you visited Cathy?"

 

Heathcliff froze a second. "No, I haven't."

 

That had been a stupid thing to say. Isabella glanced at the door. She could run and not come back. It might be easier than finishing the conversation. She was good at track. She could probably make it to Scotland today if she started now.

 

No, that was even more stupid. She swallowed. "I, uh, I know when Edgar visits her. So if you want to avoid him when you go, I could... tell you how."

 

Heathcliff didn't say anything. She looked back at him. He was fidgiting with his sleeves. His shirt was inside out. She decided not to tell him.

 

He took a deep breath. "Thanks, but, um, the living corpse thing is kind of freaking me out."

 

Isabella took a long sip of latte. "I'm with you."

 

She watched the people pass through the shop window. "It's weird and gross and wrong. She's either dead already or trapped in some kind of limbo."

 

Heathcliff's voice was quiet. "She hated being stuck."

 

He took a shaky breath. "She hated it. She broke her window and crawled through when she was grounded."

 

Isabella whistled. "That's commitment."

 

Heathcliff walked to the window and checked to make sure no one was coming. Then he sat down at the bar. "I know she'd want me to pull the plug, but I can't do it."

 

Isabella sipped her coffee. "That's murder, for one thing."

 

Heathcliff waved that away. "I would make it look like I'd tripped over it or something."

 

Isabella rested her chin on her hand. "So why haven't you pulled the plug?"

 

Heathcliff opened his mouth, then smiled. "I didn't mean to get so personal. You came in here for coffee. You don't-"

 

Isabella put a hand on his elbow. "Tomorrow, your sister's corpse is moving into my dining room. It would be weird to not talk about it."

 

Heathcliff stared at the wall right in front of him. "I don't want to live without her. If there's a medical breakthrough or something next month, I don't want to be why she died before then."

 

Isabella took a sip of coffee. "I've been reading about it a lot. There's a couple people that were declared brain dead that woke up later."

 

Heathcliff's face lit up. "Really?"

 

Isabella winced. She hadn't meant to get his hopes up. "Yeah. It's really, really rare, though."

 

Heathcliff hopped off the stool and all but ran around the counter to the white board. Isabella tried looking around him to see what he wrote, but she couldn't read his handwriting.

 

Heathcliff paused and tapped the pen against the board. "How did they wake up again? Did they say?"

 

Isabella shrugged. "I don't really remember. I just wanted to know how crazy Edgar was."

 

Heathcliff nodded, scribbled another line, and capped the pen.

 

"I could try finding the articles again? And let you know," Isabella said. "Or I could text them to you."

 

Heathcliff put the pen back in the cup. "I don't have a phone."

 

Isabella smiled. "Oh. I can come back, then. I'll be back. With the articles."

 

Heathcliff nodded. "Thanks."

 

Isabella hesitated. Should she leave now? She had an invitation back. A conversation. That was a good start.

 

She gestured to the wall behind him. "Are those Hareton's?"

 

"Yeah, he's really good at drawing," Heathcliff said. "For a six year old, I mean."

 

Isabella nodded. "I can see that."

 

Heathcliff was right. Isabella could tell what most of the drawings were. They were a little dark, but lots of kids' drawings were.

 

Isabella pointed to the one with Heathcliff, Hareton, and some other dude. "Who's the guy with the book?"

 

Heathcliff followed her finger. "Oh. That's Joseph. From next door." 

 

Isabella squinted at the picture. "I thought he was terrible." 

 

"He _is_. But he likes Hareton."

 

Isabella's phone rang. It was Edgar, so she let it go to voicemail, but she saw the clock, too.

 

"Crap, I'm gonna be late for class."

 

Isabella stood. "I should get going. It was really great seeing you again! And the latte was really good."

 

Heathcliff gave her a half wave as Isabella half ran back to her car. Time really flew around Heathcliff. Before driving away, she put a reminder in her phone to print out the articles tonight.


End file.
